My Very Own Hero
by Society's Failure
Summary: Both Jane and Maura feel guilty over the incident with Hoyt at the prison hospital, but for very different reasons. How will it affect their relationship? Will anything change? The aftermath. It's gonna get angsty folks. Will contain mature content later.


_**Author's Note: This drabble is set the night after the Season 2 Summer Finale. **__Okay, this isn't really a drabble anymore... And I actually feel I could extend this into a real chapterfic if I find the muse for more. So I'm making this into its own story, and hopefully some of the later Rizzle headcanon will give me motivation for it! Or I'll just continue it. But, this was inspired by Rizzoli and Isles Headcanon #4 :D So go follow them at rizzoliandislesheadcanon dot tumblr blahblah! Also, my tumblr for this is rizzoliandislesminific_

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><p><em><strong>Jane is afraid to start a relationship with Maura because she doesn't want Maura to become a target<strong>__**.**_

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><p><em>God<em>, she was exhausted.

Looking over at the alarm clock that sat precariously near the edge of her nightstand, dark eyes registered that it was only about one in the morning—in all honesty, not that late, considering everybody had left only about an hour before. The birthday party had been nice and short, just family and close friends, and they didn't push it. Her mother figured she would be tired after almost having her throat slit by the crazed serial killer who had made it his dying wish to kill her, and ushered everybody out at the first signs of fatigue her daughter exhibited.

The detective groaned and rolled over, pulling a pillow to her chest to squeeze. She could feel the need for sleep dragging her down, making it hard to keep her thoughts straight, but every time she closed her eyes...

All she saw was_** Maura**_. _Maura_ screaming when Hoyt cut her throat. _Maura_ crying as Hoyt moved closer. _Maura_ convulsing as the taser was pressed to her neck. _Maura_ falling back onto that hospital bed, and that scalpel moving in, quite literally, for the kill.

If she had to describe the feelings that had surged through her in those few moments, she knew her words wouldn't be able to do those emotions justice. She'd never been good with flowery details. Maybe Maura could spew out a scientific analysis of the whole thing. She'd probably know the right words to illustrate the outright terror that had flooded the detective, but not for her own sake. Maybe even the rage and the fury that had suppressed her fear of the death she had assumed was hers the moment she felt Hoyt's disgusting fingers around her throat. But the horrid emptiness that had thrown her into action when she thought of a life without her best friend...

_**That**_ was unexplainable. The closest she could think of was "the worst feeling in the world." No. In _existence._ In those few moments, she had seen her future without light, without the beacon of warmth that she knew was always nearby when she needed it. She saw it without smiles, without laughter, because what was there to smile for or laugh at with her most important person—the person she _loved_—gone because she had fallen for a stupid trap.

Her fingertips brushed the bandage on her neck as her mind pictured the mirrored cut on Maura's. '_Love?'_ the small voice in her head questioned.

'_Well, yes love. She's my best friend. Of course I love her_,' she told the voice.

'_**That's**__ not the kind of love you__** mean**__,_' it retorted.

Before she could argue with herself further, her cell phone lit up and vibrated across her nightstand, sending Jo Friday into sleepy-hysterics.

"Shut up, Jo!" she hissed, throwing her bed cover over the dog's head before snatching up the phone without looking at the caller ID. "Rizzoli."

"... _Jane?" _Her name, whispered like that through the speaker, woke the detective up instantly. She sat up in her bed, ignoring the whining of her dog.

"Maura? Maur, are you okay?" she immediately questioned, feeling her pulse quicken in her worry.

"I... I just... Wanted to see if... you were awake." Her voice sounded small and rushed; nervous to a degree. "To check on how you were doing. I know that you've often said you get nightmares, and given the traumatic experiences from yesterday, I estimated that your chances of having one went up, and-"

"Maura." Jane cut off softly. She heard the shaky intake of breath on the other line, a break in the composure she knew was on the verge of collapse. "That's not why you really called, Maur." It wasn't a question.

"... No, it's not," the medical examiner said after a pause, knowing she couldn't lie.

"I'll be over in ten."

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><p>"Jane, you really didn't have to come over here," Maura told her as she closed the door behind her friend, though she was unable to feel the instantaneous relief that lightened the choking feeling in her chest.<p>

Logically, she knew she wasn't choking. The _feeling_ was caused by her incessant thoughts, which caused her brain to replay through the events of the previous day, which emulated those same physical reactions she had had. Logically, she knew she was fine. Logically. But none of this was logical.

"Sure I did. You have better snacks anyway," Jane joked, offering a lopsided Rizzoli grin as she went to the guest bedroom and set down her overnight bag that was always packed for spur-of-the-moment sleepovers. Maura felt her mouth attempt to mirror the action, but guilt still creased it into a frown. She sat on the couch in her blue pyjama set, staring forward with a flight furrow in her brow as she heard Jane rummage through her cabinets.

"But it's one twenty-three in the morning, and no doubt you would be more comfortable in your own bed, not here with me, and—"

She was cut off as she jumped at the feeling of the strong hands on her shoulders, shooting her back into the clutches of the prison guard. Her breath caught in her chest, her spine stiff as she tried to control the panic that rose in her throat. The hands began to gently massage her shoulders, thumbs caressing the tense muscles beneath them. Quickly she rationalized; this was _Jane_. This was her _best friend. _

This was the person she _had almost lost_. The person who had saved them both while she sat there and did_ nothing_ but cry.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She had never felt so worthless in her life.

Jane's hands paused, noticing a difference in the way she was holding herself. She gently pulled Maura's hair back and away from her face, allowing her to see the tears falling freely. Clenching her eyes shut, she bit back a sob. _Worthless._

And then Jane was right next to her, wrapping her long arms around her shoulders and pulling her snug into her warm embrace. Maura buried her face into the shoulder of detective's Boston Homicide shirt, her hands clenching at the fabric for something to hold onto, to anchor her. Those hands, usually used for shooting guns and handcuffing criminals, were gentle as they stroked her hair. That voice, usually so rough and sarcastic and gravely, softly shushed her, whispered comforting words she couldn't find it in herself to comprehend.

"Maur, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," she repeated over and over, rocking her back and forth. Jane didn't care about the mess of tears and make-up that was left on the shirt, though she would lighten the mood later but teasing Maura over it. Jane didn't care that it was nearing two in the morning and she still hadn't slept. What she _did_ care about was ensuring Maura's well being, both physical and emotional, guarding her from distress and harm, like... Her own personal super hero.

Maura half-laughed, half-hiccoughed at the thought.

"Somethin' funny, huh?" Jane teased softly, stopping the rocking and the stroking to grab hold of Maura's shoulders gently, and push her back enough so their eyes could meet. The red-rimmed golden brown of the Chief Medical Examiner searched for answers in the darker hued depths of the detective, but were confronted with something she had never seen in the Italian's face. At least, not towards her...

Quickly the emotion she failed to recognize was replaced by general caring as Jane lifted a sleeve to wipe away the left over tears and smudges of eyeliner under her eyes that didn't make it onto the front of her shirt to begin with. Maura let her, laughing again. "I was just thinking... You're like my hero. My very own hero," she replied, her voice small and almost sheepish.

Jane blinked, and she sat silent for a moment before she smiled, and laughed in return. "So long as my super name isn't Roly Poly Rizzoli, that doesn't seem so bad." She stood from the couch, and held her hand out to the caramel-haired woman. "Now, I think it's time to go to bed."

The laughter in Maura's eyes dimmed a bit, a flicker of unease sparking there instead. Still, she took Jane's hand and followed after her as she was led into her own bedroom. Jane took her spot on the right side of the bed as Maura climbed onto the left. Silence stretched between them as they both stared up at the ceiling.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in a couple of hours. I'll make pancakes or something," Jane finally said, swinging her feet off the bed to make her way to the guest bedroom. Maura sat up and watched her move towards the door, feeling a gathering sense of dread and loneliness the further the tall detective went.

"Jane, please don't leave."

She stopped at the doorway, turning halfway around with questioning eyes and a raised brow. Maura picked at the comforter, not meeting her eyes. "I don't think I can sleep alone right now," she continued softly, her voice breaking a bit over the declaration of perceived weakness.

Jane's heart cracked a little as she saw how small and scared the examiner looked. She had done this to her. She had brought her into Hoyt's sight. She had made her a target because she _loved_ her.

_**Love**_. She was back to that again. Jane smiled as reassuringly as she could, given her inner turmoil, and returned to the bed. "Fine. But only because your sheets are nicer," she joked quietly, settling back into her designated spot. Maura looked horrified at the idea.

"They are not! Both sets are 800 thread count, Egyptian cotton from—"

"Maur, that was a joke. Your sheets are like sleeping on clouds." Jane stifled a laugh, and glanced over at the doctor. "That better?"

Maura rolled on to her side to fixate Jane with a confused stare. "Sleeping on—or in, rather, since they aren't even solid—clouds wouldn't be that comfortable. It would be very wet. And cold. And..." she trailed off as she realized she had missed the point of the joke.

"Really?" Jane asked with a laugh, followed by a fake yawn. "Okay, okay. Try to sleep some. We can talk more about cloud beds when it's past noon." She turned over onto her side so her friend couldn't see her face as she puzzled and thought, knowing sleep would evade her for awhile yet. "Good night, Maura," she said softly.

"Good morning, Jane," Maura replied, correcting her description of time, and Jane could hear the smile on the other woman's lips. She stayed silent, and concentrated on evening out her breathing while she listened for the same in her friend. Her thoughts began to wander.

_It's my fault she feels like this. It's my fault she has that cut on her neck, and it's my fault she was turned into a victim... _Jane felt tears well in her eyes, but she clenched them shut as tightly as possible to keep them at bay. _She called me her hero. Like I saved her out of the blue. But I caused it. I was the one who put her in danger in the first place..._

The train of thought screeched to a halt as she felt the bed shift, and the warmth of a body gravitate towards her. Jane held her breath while an arm slid over her waist, and the solid form of Maura pulled itself against her back. She heard the smaller woman sigh contentedly in her sleep at her shoulder, her forehead resting at the base of her neck. Her breathing never deviated from the steady tempo of sleep; she had sleep-rolled-over-and-spooned-her-best-friend. It wasn't a conscious decision, Jane told herself. The detective relaxed, revelling in the closeness despite the fierce objection her brain made.

'_This is bad. You can't do this, Janie. You'll just hurt her more, if you let this happen. You can't tell her how you feel,' _her brain told her.

'_You know you want to. You know you want to __**always**__ be her superhero,' _her heart contested.

'_Heroes can't have relationships because of things like this. They just end up hurt and in danger. They end up in the clutches of serial killers with scalpels and apprentices and get killed.' _Her brain was right, and she knew it. But her heart...

'_You just have to make sure to be there to save the day.'_

The arm around her waist pulled her closer, as if willing her to relax. '_I'll think about it later...' _Jane compromised with her two conflicting sides. Forcing herself to let all thoughts and awareness flow out of her, she sunk into Maura's embrace, and allowed herself to finally sleep.

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><p><strong><em>Thank you for reading -heart- I hope you enjoyed it. I will hopefully continue this soon, but I have a stressful schedule ;_; Damn APs. BUT I WILL UPDATE EVENTUALLY. Ilu all and reviews are love.<em>**


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